The Otherworlds Chronicles III - Black Swan Lake
by TitaHightopp05
Summary: An old acquaintance of the Goblin King's rises, hunting his dreams, keeping him from sleep and draining his powers from him. The Black Swan is coming. Through dangers untold and hardships unnumbered, he will have to find out what it means with the help of a certain girl he was defeated by who happens to have had similar nightmares. Who ever is the 'Babe with the power of voodoo?
1. Prologue

_The Otherworlds Chronicles III_

 _Black Swan Lake_

 _-The Labyrinth-_

 **Desclaimer: This is a no profit work of FanFiction, any copyright infragment is not intended. I do not own 'Labyrinth''s storyline or characters, they all belong to Jim Hanson. I neither own 'Swan Lake' nor 'Giselle', the ballets I took ispiration from. This is the third book of my saga 'The Otherworlds Chronicles', check out on my profile the previous two books which are 'Alice in Wonderland 2010' FanFictions, you don't need to read them before reading this one as for now they are still separate stories.**

 **Thank you for reading! On with the story!**

Prologue

Night had fallen rather slowly and darker than usual upon the Maze. The lights in the houses in the Goblin City had already been switched off and a strange breeze blowing through the windows of the Castle was shaking the oil laps producing quiet and high-pitched whistles.

In the most hidden room of his wing of the Castle, a serene shape was sleeping, comfortably wrapped in his silky sheets. The pale moonlight was caressing his hard sculptured features as the hands of a lover would. His eyelids resting on his cheekbones, occasionally fluttering in his dreaming state. His unruly pale golden straight hair was sprawled around his head, forming the crown he didn't usually wear.

Lying on his left side, the King of the Goblins was taking his rest alone.

Or so he thought.


	2. Chapter 1: A Night Visitor

**Desclaimer: Besides the same thing I wrote in the Prologue, here** **I own Serena.**

Chapter 1 – A Night Visitor

He thought that he was still dreaming at first. A beautiful voice it was, chanting in an ancient language he wasn't sure he knew, gently pulling him from his slumber. When his mismatched and still unfocused eyes opened, his previous wonder was replaced by confusion and anger as he realized that it was still night and someone was definitely singing in his bedroom!

Someone… vaguely familiar. The feminine voice felt warm and welcoming to his ears, her song sad and moving. He lifted to a seated position wide awake, eyes scanning the room in search of the source of the tune until they stopped on a figure.

Seated on the windowsill beside his canopy bed was a woman, whose skin was light blue color that grew darker and darker by her chest and ran farther down the length of her body and legs sprawling around them so to form a dress that shone with glitters. Her shoulders and arms were bare and hugged her knees to her chest. Her long and voluminous hair fell on her back like a waterfall of dark chestnut. They were pulled behind her ears and he could see that a blindfold covered her eyes, which had been replaced by a pair of buttons stitched on the white fabric.

He was stunned by the view: how had that woman entered?! If that even was a woman… what was it? What was it doing there, in his bedroom? Had the Hour already come?!

Something was suddenly missing: she had stopped singing. Her head lifted and just slightly turned towards him, she smiled: "I was waiting for you to wake up"

Her voice made his stomach constrict, he found that he had no voice to reply.

The figure let her legs go and stood brushing a hand against the wall. She smiled wider: "Come on, I heard you start to breathe differently!"

Jareth shook himself out of his contemplating state: "Who are you? Have you any idea of the fact that you are in the King's chambers? I order you to get out of here immediately!"

He was surprised when a sad frown crossed her face: "You… don't remember me, do you?"

He said nothing.

She started to fidget with her hands and sighed: "Well, what was I expecting? After all, you never entirely realized I was there…"

Jareth let his brain labor as he studied her features over again. When realization hit him his heart skipped a beat and he felt blood drain from his head: "S-Serena…"

Her face shot up again, an awestruck look on her pale visage as she giggled: "You remember me!"

The Goblin King would have done anything but laughing right then: "It can't be!" he yelled.

She slid closer, he scooted away; why the hell was he cowering before her?! It was just… wait. "Am I dreaming?"

"Almost"

"What would that mean?" he shot up from the bed. Serena felt him move right in front of her, in all his regal presence.

She shook her head, brushed delicately past him and sat on the mattress facing him with crossed legs: "Everything in time".

Jareth observed her, failing in trying to read her expression as half of her face was hidden. He couldn't help but notice that she was still as beautiful as he first time they had met: a few strands of her hair flew with the gentle breeze and seemed silver colored in the moonlight, still he found them creepy, for they moved like they were floating underwater.

"What has become of you?"

She shrugged: "The wandering spirit of a woman"

His eyes widened: "You're dead?"

Serena nodded: "And you are dreaming". She heard him chuckle and decided not to let him delude himself too long: "I'm real though".

"I'm afraid I don't follow you" he tilted his head on one side an quirked and eyebrow.

"Of course you don't: this power is beyond your knowledge and understanding, Goblin King"

Jareth quickly lost his patience: he hated it when people played games on him. "What in the Underground are you doing here then?" he shouted as he walked threateningly towards the Spirit again, balled fists shaking at his sides with rage "Why are you bothering my slumber with your nonsense? Couldn't you just rest in peace like every other dead does?"

He immediately regretted raising his voice with her: he was forcefully swept against the wall by a violent blow of air, Serena's face was suddenly merely an inch away from his, her hair flowed around her like only some strands did a few minutes before: "You will not defy a Vila again, Goblin King! Your life depends on it!"

"I got you loud and clear" his voice croaked due to the hard colliding with the stone wall.

The Spirit stepped away and looked at him severely: "Wilis are spirits of women betrayed by their beloved, doomed to wander restlessly in their forest or within the clouds until they are revenged"

Jareth lowered his gaze: "Was I the one who damned you this way?"

"Oh, what do you say?"

He pursed his lips, then stepped away from the wall and folded his arms behind his back: "I'll ask again, I want you to answer" he said carefully. She nodded and he continued: "Why are you here?"

Her lips parted just slightly in hesitation, but she lifted her right hand anyway and showed her palm to him; he looked closely and saw that she lacked of some skin there. "I'm bound to obey to any of his orders. He's not pleased by the way a Queen was treated: he wants to make you regret your unfaithfulness to me. I have to haunt your dreams until you'll refuse to fall asleep, you'll be too tired to use your powers and slowly perish".

For the second time that night, the King of the Goblins cowered. His heart pounded in his chest, sweat prickled down his brow and his eyes were wide with fear. He cleared his throat: "Who are you bound to? Who wants me dead?"

Serena hugged herself and stepped backwards: "I'm not meant to tell…"

He reached for her and held her upper arms, she gasped at the sudden contact: "You have to tell me! I have to know who my enemy is!" he yelled, his fearless mask falling for a moment.

"I-I can't disobey" she whimpered.

He released his grip on her but did not let go. Only then he realized how cold she was: sickly cold, in fact. He felt her low temperature creep through his palms, his flesh, his bones. He slid his hands down her arms and grabbed her hands in his: "Please"

The breeze was getting increasingly stronger. Serena sighed sadly and squeezed his hands lovingly. It hurt her to feel him afraid: he wasn't often that way but when he was, he felt like his pride was being stabbed. Her handsome, proud, selfish... cheater: "I'm sorry" she whispered. She released his hands and let herself be blown away by the wind that had grown stronger and stronger.

"No! Serena! Wait!" he launched forward, but didn't succeed in catching her.

"The Black Swan is coming, Goblin King"

He didn't have time to reply for a wave of dizziness engulfed him and obliged him to shout his eyes, he swayed on his feet as he felt himself growing too heavy for his legs to bear. He gripped his head in pain and groaned when he soundly hit the ground.

When Jareth opened his eyes again the sunrays were brightening the room up; he was as tangled in his bedsheets as a mummy was in its bandages and his pillow felt unusually hard and cold. He moved his head very slightly on one side just to discover that he was laying helplessly on the floor beside his bed and that a piercing headache had spread through his entire cranium.

Only a dream. Barely an illusion. A very realistic one for the matter… but still a figment of his mind.

He rolled on his side groaning as every muscle in his body protested, he fought free from his blankets' hold on his royal figure and stood stumbling: why was he so unwilling to get up and go reign? He only had another ordinary, boring, goblin-and-chicken-full day ahead of him! At that thought, he whined and facepalmed.

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	3. Chapter 2, pt1: A Challenge for the King

**Desclaimer: Same things I wrote in the Prologue. As far as Sir Didymus' speech is concerned, I was helped by my English mothertongue teacher (who I thank very much, Cyber cookie!). B** **ut if there is anything that could be smoothed in his lines let me know.**

Chapter 2, pt.1/2 – A Challenge for the King

Jareth laid sprawled on his throne, with both legs crossed on an arm and his own arms were folded together upon his chest.

He leaned his head tiredly against the back of his royal chair. Neither the strong headache nor the nightmares had gone since the night he had dreamt of Serena; they merely worsened if possible.

His dreams didn't show the Vila anymore and he could only vaguely remember them after he had awaken, breathing heavily and with his hair and nightclothes soaked in sweat and mattered against his skin. He hardly realized that he had fallen asleep recently: they would take place in the same scenario he had last seen before closing his eyes, he would always feel that Fear he didn't know the source of, hear the flapping of what it seemed very big wings approaching from nowhere, he would transform into his owl form and fly away from it even if it always seemed to draw closer and closer and it felt like every nightmare was longer than the previous.

He closed his eyes and lifted a hand to massage them, to be sure not to fall asleep.

He groaned as another wave of pain ran through his cranium from side to side: by the Labyrinth, he needed to sleep. At least the Goblins had gone away from the room at his first threaten of a swim in the Bog. The room was silent except for his own breathing and the tweeting of some- SLAM!

The door slamming open echoed in his aching head for a few seconds and was enough to bring his heart up to his throat. He had to fight a little with himself to hide the fright he had had behind his usual cool mask: "Didymus"

The fox pulled his Sheepdog to a sudden: "Oh, oh! Ambrosius! Forgive my steed, your Highness: little knoweth he about good manners!". Said that, he nimbly jumped off the saddle, ran right before his King and bowed deeply taking his feathered hat off in the process.

Jareth waved his hand with nonchalance, not bothering to straighten his posture: "Did you report the message?"

Sir Didymus cleared his throat nervously while putting his hat back to place between his ears, his eyes wandered around the room for a while: "Ehm… well… if I may say, my Lord, thou hast very shiny boots today! Hast thou had them cleaned?"

The King snorted and lowered his legs at the knight's level, an elbow on his knee, his face nestled in his palm: "I wonder if you'll still like them when they'll kick you out of that window and head first in the Bog of Eternal Stench if you won't tell me about your mission"

The fox swallowed hard: "Well, your Majesty… the thing is… thou will not like what I'll tell"

Jareth slumped back in his Throne, tapping his fingers against an arm nervously: "Look, Didymus, I'm really tired of you trying to avoid the subject, but I think I'll still be able to find that little bit of strength that I need to send the Cleaners after you"

Sir Didymus straightened up, every hair on his body was shuddering. He closed his eyes and spilled the beans: "She dared to defy his Royal Majesty!"

The tapping sound of his fingertips stopped and his mismatched eyes suddenly were upon his subject: "What?!"

Didymus cleared his throat again and started to explain: "I rode taking no rest into the forest, like I was ordered to by yourself, because I'm a faithful knight! And no living-"

"Didymus" Jareth hissed through clenched teeth.

"Ehm, yes. I made it into the house and reported thy important message, in which this required her immediate presence at the Castle Beyond the Goblin City". He paused his speech to pull at his collar, suddenly too tight around his neck: "And… she told me to report **her** message instead".

The King prepared for the impact by clenching the curls of the throne's arms' ends.

The fox took a breath: "'Tell him to come with his own legs if it really is important matter'. Then the woman slammed the door in my nose!"

Jareth rolled his eyes and breathed deeply, trying to swallow the burning anger back. He drew an invisible horizontal line in the air with his fists and made his riding crop appear. He started to tap it against his crossed legs, as he spoke as calmly as he could manage: "And why did a faithful knight like yourself cower before a woman?"

Sir Didymus' ears lowered at the mention of the word 'cower' and he heard Ambrosius whine behind him. He picked his hat from his head again and pressed it against his chest: he would have explained everything and faced the consequences of his actions with courage. "Because as thou hast said, she was a Lady, my Lord. And, shame on me if I did wrong, I had sworn to myself that I would have treated her with the same respect I show to his Highness, having said Lady your same blo-"

"Leave Didymus, you are dismissed"

The proudly puffed chest of Sir Didymus slumped and a look of hurt crossed his face. He bowed again and turned to leave. Just as he was about to mount on his Sheepdog he found the guts to ask: "Was his Majesty disappointed by his faithful knight?"

The King looked at him, then away again: "I won't kill the messenger. I should have expected a similar outcome"

The fox mounted on the saddle and pulled the right rein to guide the animal out of the room.

"Sir Didymus!"

"Halt! Ambrosius! Oh, thou race dog!" he pulled both the reins towards himself to stop the dog and listen to his King.

"Give order to the stable boy to prepare my horse for a long journey. I'll be leaving tonight".

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